Whispers of Nowhere

Chapter Nineteen: Part One

Phenex scanned the crowd of monsters. Shadows were dotted throughout, their ephemeral forms twisting and writhing, pulling apart and reforming. Some, much like the group he'd run into in Gwen's hometown, had opted to take on bestial forms; dragons, giant serpents, scorpions, octopi—all with their ruby eyes trained on him.

The other creatures—the gargoyles, chimera, and the hybrid hellhounds with their reptilian features—were less cautious. Whereas the shadows hung back, watching and waiting for their opportunity to strike, the rest of Reeves' army seemed hell-bent on getting themselves killed. Already Phenex had taken out just under half of them, and with very little effort.

It was when the battle had moved to the courtyard that things had begun to turn around. Now that he had room to fight and no longer had to concern himself with falling from the rooftops—despite the fact that he'd hardly get a scratch if he did—things were finally working in his favour.

Or at least, they should have been. The haze blanketing the castle grounds was growing darker by the minute, swirling black fog so thick that he could scarcely see his own hand in front of his face unless he set it ablaze.

While his forces were still lackluster at best, Reeves himself had adapted quickly to the change of terrain, wiping out any chance of a fair fight between them. Phenex could hear the cackling of demons farther back, well out of his line of sight. Glimpses of red and yellow streaked past him on either side, only their eyes visible as they attempted to corral him, the sound of their feet on the flagstones no more than a whisper.

"Reeves, you coward!" Phenex pivoted, never allowing his back to remain in one direction for more than a few seconds. "Why don't you come out and fight me, one-on-one?"

Reeves' answer came in the form of a feral-looking gargoyle, its granite lips pulled back in a menacing snarl as it swooped down on him. Phenex barely got out of its way before it hit the ground, shattering the flagstones where he'd been mere seconds before.

He had just gotten to his feet—bruising his shoulder when he'd leapt into a forward roll and healing by the time he'd stood—when a cloud of winged imps descended on him; each one grinning at him maliciously with their tiny, serrated fangs. Grey, humanoid faces shone like pale moons as they dropped into a downward spiral, forming a chain of dark, plump bodies with all four sets of claws extended.

Bad move.

He thrust one fist upward, unleashing a torrent of flame. His ears were filled with the sounds of their screeching, the winged imps plummeting to the ground to smoulder like bits of charcoal where they landed, filling the air with their acrid stench. Those the flames hadn't touched veered out of the way, crashing into one another in their panic and crying out when he released another stream of fire.

The few stragglers lucky enough to evade the second attack vanished further into the surrounding haze. Phenex squinted against the gloom, waiting for the next barrage. He didn't know where it would come from, whether it would be from one of Reeves' monsters or from the Shade, himself. But when it did, he'd be ready.

Where did the gargoyle fly off to? he wondered, peering around. Had it really only launched itself at him in an attempt to distract him from the imps? Why bother when it could have fought him all on its own?

There came a fleeting sensation of eyes on the back of his neck, fine hairs standing on end as he slowly circled the courtyard. Fire flickered wildly in the palms of both hands, his eyes roving over every corner between St. Vitus Cathedral and the castle, the air coming in and out of him in slow, steady breaths.

He smelled just the slightest hint of sulfur before the next attack came—a pack of hybrid hellhounds and basilisks—before he released a volley of fireballs into the throng, watching with grim amusement as they scattered, though only a few actually caught fire. In spite of the keening wails of their dying brothers, the others kept coming, slithering and padding toward him with swift, sure movements.